


Reasons

by Mice



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Missing Scene, Post sign of three, hints of Last Vow, season three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 15:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mice/pseuds/Mice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are reasons why Mycroft hides their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reasons

It was late when Greg dragged himself into his flat, exhausted and still a little pissed from all the drinks he'd had at the reception. There had been no sign of a light from the front of the flat, but when he opened the door, he saw a dim light on in the kitchen.

"Mycroft?"

"There's tea if you want some." Mycroft's voice from the kitchen was soft and a little subdued.

Greg tossed his jacket on the couch as he passed through the room on his way in. "Yeah, sounds good." Mycroft was sitting at the table, pouring a cup for him, the liquid steaming in the cup. Greg sighed. "Why?" Mycroft looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. "Don't give me that. You know perfectly well what I mean." He rested a hand on Mycroft's shoulder, his fingers rubbing gently.

"Weddings are really not my area," he said, his voice flat, with a vague hint of annoyance.

"It's not just that," Greg answered, his fingers trailing up the back of Mycroft's neck into the short hair there. "You never go anywhere with me. The only time anyone ever sees us in the same place is when you're hauling Sherlock out of a crime scene. We only ever do things here or at your place. I mean, we've never even been out for dinner, Mycroft. I'm starting to think you're ashamed of me. I don't like the idea that we're hiding like we're some dirty secret that nobody can know."

Mycroft slid the teacup toward him on the table and slipped an arm around Greg's waist, pulling him to his side. He rested his head on Greg's chest. "I'm not ashamed of you." He sounded tired.

"Then why are we hiding?" Greg pulled a chair over to sit next to Mycroft, their bodies still touching. 

Mycroft's eyes tightened and his thin lips pinched into the disapproving frown that was, unfortunately, too familiar. "Think, Gregory. What do I do?"

Greg shrugged and pulled the cup toward him with his free hand. "As far as I know, you work for MI6, not that anybody would say it aloud." He took a sip of the tea as Mycroft nodded.

"And what might that suggest?"

"You're not James Bond," Greg grumbled, his voice rough with weariness and frustration. Mycroft merely waited, his eyes half closed. "At least, you've said you hate legwork."

"It doesn't mean it never happens."

"Christ," Greg whispered. "And you were gone for about a month just before Sherlock came back." Mycroft nodded and gestured with one hand, drawing more out of Greg. "You went after him, you went somewhere ridiculously dangerous, and I had no idea."

"You weren't supposed to."

"But what's that got to do with us, beyond the obvious not being able to tell me things bit?"

"You are aware of some of Sherlock's enemies, I'm sure." Mycroft's arm tightened around Greg, gently pulling him closer.

Greg nodded. "Well, yeah."

"Extrapolate."

Greg's eyes narrowed and he stared at Mycroft. "You have them too."

Mycroft nodded. "As you might imagine, mine are considerably more dangerous."

"More dangerous than that lunatic, Moriarty." Between the bombs and the man's ability to crack the Tower of London, Pentonville, and the Bank of England, the thought was mindboggling.

"By far." 

"You're worried someone will see me as a vulnerability."

Mycroft's eyes fell to the table, and Greg's fingers around the teacup, before he looked back up at him. "Only because you are. My brother is the only weakness anyone currently sees in me, Gregory. What I know and what I can do would make you a target for very powerful, very unscrupulous men. Blackmail, kidnapping, torture, even murder are not beyond them, and they would use any of those methods without hesitation if they thought hurting you would allow them access to me. That, I simply cannot allow."

Greg whispered, "I see," his heart aching.

"You know the lengths to which I have gone to protect Sherlock, what I've done to try to keep him safe." Mycroft's voice chilled and hardened, his eyes turning to ice. "I care for my brother, Gregory, but you I love above any other. If you were threatened, I would burn the world to ash to protect you. There is nothing I would not do to keep you from harm, and that is a very, very dangerous state of affairs. It cannot be revealed under any circumstances."

"And that's why you hide it," Greg murmured, "why we only see one another in the shadows like this."

"To lose Sherlock would break my heart, but to lose you would destroy me, utterly." Mycroft's voice didn't tremble, but Greg could see it in his eyes. He let go of the teacup and wrapped his arms around Mycroft, pulling him into a fierce embrace. "I am sorry, Gregory," Mycroft whispered, nuzzling into Greg's neck. "I wish I could give you what you want, but I can't. I've lost entirely too much to this work already. I refuse to expose you to such things. I don't know if our situation will ever be different. I can never promise you more than what we already have—"

"It's all right," Greg said, holding him close. "I guess I always knew."

Mycroft took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I would not blame you if you didn't wish to continue our association." He didn't raise his face from Greg's neck.

"Don't be daft." Greg pressed a slow, soft kiss to Mycroft's hair. "You know I love you, too, don't you? I'm willing to take those risks, if you're willing to take them with me, even if it means I can't ever take you out for dinner or walk down the street beside you."

"You are far too good to me," Mycroft murmured.

Greg tucked a hand under Mycroft's chin and lifted his face. "Someday things will be different, Mycroft. Someday you'll walk away from the job, or you'll retire, and it'll be different then. We won't have to do this anymore, hiding all the time, being alone when we'd rather be together."

Mycroft closed his eyes and shook his head. "You're being stupidly optimistic."

"It's all right. I'll believe it for both of us."

"And that is why I love you," Mycroft breathed, his lips sliding gently across Greg's own. There was a warmth and tenderness in the kiss that no one would have believed if they had only Mycroft's public persona as a guide. "Come to bed, Gregory, even if it's only for a few hours."

Greg nodded. "Someday, it'll be more," he promised. "You'll see."

"You have no idea how much I want that to be true." Mycroft stood, graceful, and pulled Greg to his feet. 

Greg smiled. "I think maybe I do."


End file.
